


River of the Dead

by ValensHawke



Series: Ghost Love Score [2]
Category: Claymore
Genre: Canon - Manga, F/F, Post-Pieta, Sidequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 23:22:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5109302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValensHawke/pseuds/ValensHawke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A soul’s journey does not end when her body dies. She must make a journey and find her way to the next rebirth. Jean’s journey leads her to meeting a special warrior. Together, they try to save Clare… from herself. This is a sidequel to my other work, “Awakened Nightmares.” They can be read independently of each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	River of the Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Footnotes indicate dialogue from the official Viz Media Translation or from the Scanlation Team's translation of the last few chapters.

The moment is close; she no longer feels the cold wind against her skin. Her heart begins to slow, the beats taking longer. Jean knows her time is at an end. This time there is no miracle, no pulling back. This time it is her duty. Not to the Organization. Not to the people of Pietà. It is her duty to Clare. This time the roles are reversed. This time she is not trapped. This time she will save someone instead of cursing her inability. 

In fulfilling her chosen duty, she feels as if Clare is saving her again. Her life is Clare’s. She will give her life to save Clare. It is her choice, her duty, her honor. Clare has given her an honorable death, something not many warriors ever receive. Even though Jean can see the pain and regret in Clare’s eyes, she knows she is making the right decision.

As the night gets darker, the lights of Pietà go out little by little, much like the life of a warrior. She wonders how life could have been if she and Clare had more time together. As the years went by, Jean hardened her mind and heart. The world became darker as she lived the standard life of a warrior, wandering into a growing darkness with lights constantly fading out. Her own light becoming dimmer until only the briefest flicker existed. But as her heart continues to slow, she realizes her life burns brightest at the end because she is with Clare, the one who sparked her own light again... the one who gave her a second chance. She lost her light once. Now Jean will use her own light… her own life to keep Clare’s life burning.

“Jean! Jean!” Clare pleads. The tears stream down her face, the pain evident.

Jean feels her life beating away; she knows her next words are her last. At the end of her life, she has no regrets thanks to Clare. She hopes Clare’s light will continue to burn, that she will come to live a life with no regrets. She closes her eyes. She is grateful she is dying on her terms, helping the one she cares for the most. She does not want Clare’s last image of her to be of pain and sadness. Jean knows Clare is going through too much pain.

“I’m grateful to you. Thank you, Clare. I’m glad I met you…”[1] she says. She struggles to finish but she is determined, “Live… Clare…” She forms a faint smile on her lips. She draws on everything in her body; her mind, her soul… her heart… to sync their auras. She wills her entire life-force to sync their auras and pull Clare back.

She feels Clare’s aura pull back. She lets her smile grow a bit more. She saves Clare; her life will keep on burning. The next moment, all Jean sees is a blinding flash of light. A wave of energy washes over her… then nothing. She is ripped away from Clare, but Clare will live.

She has no regrets.

~*~

She hears water flowing in the distance. She opens her eyes suddenly. She feels the grass underneath her and tries to stand up quickly, but stumbles. She drops to one knee as the confusion overwhelms her. To her left, a small river flows. On the other side, there are an abundance of trees. The sky is a light blue. She feels no wind. On her right, more trees. She cannot make out what is in the horizon. She has no idea where she is. There is no sun to provide direction and she doubts there is a moon. She does see brighter light at horizon.

She tries to stand again and get her bearings. She feels someone’s arm wrap around her, helping her up.

“Easy there, the first time is difficult. I know you’re adjusting and trying to figure out just where you are. Don’t worry about trying to figure it out quickly. You have all the time in the world,” the woman says. She has long, flowing blonde hair. The warrior is tall, slightly taller than Jean, with the same silver eyes.

Seeing a fellow warrior gives Jean a great sense of comfort. She wears the same uniform as Jean, excluding the pauldrons and cape. Jean sees the warrior’s symbol, but cannot place it. Still, a fellow warrior usually means someone safe, someone that will help. She hopes whoever she is half as helpful as Clare.

The memories begin to come back, and the weight on her heart becomes heavier. She led warriors to their deaths. She is no longer with her comrades. She repaid her debt, but she knows that does not matter at all. She wants to be at Clare’s side. She wants Clare to be at her side.

Jean sighs before facing the fellow warrior, “Thank you. Where am I?” Jean remains confused. She cannot be alive. The last thing she remembers is pulling Clare back.

A sudden wave of panic comes over her, but the woman puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Do not worry about Clare. You pulled her back… you saved her and I thank you considerably,” the warrior says.

 _A complete stranger thanking me… for saving Clare?_ she thinks. Jean is shocked by the depth of sincerity the warrior shows.

“I’m dead,” Jean whispers. For a few moments, she wonders how others have reacted to this. She wonders about Katea and Raquel. She could not save them at Mount Zakol. She could not save Emelia, Eliza, Diana, or Natalie at Pietà. She feels a pain in her chest, the heaviness of guilt becoming more burdensome.

“They don’t blame you. Those you led. Nor should you blame yourself. You did not order them to their deaths. You did not give them false information. You did not send them to Mount Zakol or the northern mountains. In our line of work, the Organization murdering us by proxy is an inevitable outcome. It is a miracle when we can die on our own terms. But so few have…” the warrior says, trailing off.

There is a soothing calmness to the warrior’s voice. Again, Jean is not sure what to say. There is so much confusion within her. She is walking and talking to another warrior, another warrior that died. Jean never was one to believe in an afterlife. Ideas of an afterlife were myths and comforts for a cruel and heartless world. Sometimes, trainees would tell stories of an afterlife to rationalize their own suffering. Jean heard many stories during her time. She has no doubt that this warrior before her heard the same during her time as a trainee.

Eventually, almost all warriors stop caring if a god or the afterlife exists. The shock remains. Who would judge her for her deeds?

“As for where you are,” the warrior says, “you’re in the threshold between two worlds. You must make the journey to the next world from here. How long it takes you and where exactly you go, I cannot say… it varies from warrior to warrior.”

Jean wonders how long this warrior has been at the threshold. _Why is she helping me? Has she helped others? And how does she know Clare?_

“I’m sorry; I know you are a fellow warrior but… I do not recognize your symbol. You know Clare?” Jean says hopeful.

The woman softly nods.

“I wouldn’t expect you or very many to recognize my symbol. I lived many years ago…” she says. Jean notices she pauses as if to compose her thoughts.

“My name is Teresa, and I am a former Number One of the Organization,” Teresa says.

“I’m Jean, Numb-” she starts to say before stopping herself. She looks away for a moment before looking back and continuing, “Former Number 9 of the Organization.”

Jean notices the very small smile Teresa forms, as if she is smiling at her for some reason. Jean looks at her confused.

“I cannot thank you enough, but I will say it again: I thank you considerably for saving Clare,” Teresa says.

Jean can feel the emotions flow from Teresa as she speaks of Clare. The emotions are powerful, almost overwhelming in both sadness and joy. Jean understands the emotions. She feels the same; the joy that Clare is alive, the sadness that they are apart. Yet, she cannot understand the feelings of familiarity she has with Teresa. Jean feels Teresa’s aura; it is similar to Clare’s.

“As for Clare… she was… is my daughter,” Teresa says.

Jean looks at Teresa in confusion and says, “Your daughter?”

Warriors are incapable of having children and all warriors are taken by the Organization when having children was not likely or even possible.

“It was a standard assignment: Eliminate the Yoma infestation in a village. Clare was child then and…” she pauses, her face contorting with disgust and anger as she looks away from Jean, “Being held captive by a band of Yomas. Who knows for how long.”

She pauses, allowing Jean to take in what she said, before continuing, “I killed those Yoma because it was my job, not to save her life. That was a byproduct.”

Teresa pauses again, looking crestfallen. “I sliced the head of the Yoma that was holding her from behind. She was covered in blood. She was in shock. As I was leaving, she began to follow me. I pushed her away… Forcefully, several times. I wasn’t there to save her; I did not care about her. It was my job.”

A part of Jean wants to hit Teresa, but she does not. She can hear the guilt in Teresa’s voice. However, the conflict and confusion is clear on her face.

Teresa turns her head and faces Jean. She looks at Jean’s face for a moment before continuing, “I was different then. But Clare is persistent, I’m sure you know that.”

“Yes… she is,” Jean responds in a soft tone.

Teresa looks at the flowing river, the only sound besides their voices. After a few moments, she starts again. “Let’s begin going to the mouth of the river and see where your journey begins.”

Jean wonders why Teresa stopped talking about Clare. Teresa begins to walk along the river, following the flow. Before Jean can ask her, Teresa continues.

“She followed me. She kept on following me, even when I tried to shake her. She put herself in harm’s way to follow me,” she says, again pausing.

Teresa finally stops walking and Jean looks at her, wondering what is going through her mind. Teresa’s eyes look toward the horizon, but Jean can tell there something on her mind… some memory of Clare has resurfaced.

Jean hears Teresa whisper, “Doesn’t it hurt? Doesn’t it hurt?”[2]

Teresa turns her head to Jean. “All that time, I thought she wanted me to help her.” She again goes silent and looks away.

Jean looks at Teresa and notices her eyes. The dampness and glassy look are unmistakable. Clare’s mark on Teresa is strong, and Jean is both touched that Teresa is sharing this with her and is happy knowing Clare has touched more lives than she ever imagined.

“All that time… the Yoma stole everything she cherished. The people she trusted betrayed her and cast her out. She lost all reason to live and roamed from place to place. She carried the same heartache and pain… and with her small and trembling body, she clinged with all her might to someone who shared the same wounds… and all because this was the one thing she wanted most… That little girl, not even half my size taught me that tears can still flow from even these silver eyes.”[3] Teresa says, a single tear dripping down her cheek.

“I abandoned the Organization. My sentence for that transgression was execution. They sent four to kill me. One of those four awakened and killed me before I could kill her. I thought she killed the rest. She spared Clare… and a certain oaf that I admire…”[4] Teresa stops walking and looks at Jean. “Even though my time with her was short, it means more to me than all the time that led up to it.”

The words hit Jean hard and her own feelings at the end resurface; she and Teresa feel the same way about Clare. Words like “duty” and “honor” became empty to her. The duplicity of the Organization became clear when Organization used Rafaela to track them down.

“I understand,” Jean says almost in a whisper. “She gave my life purpose and meaning when I thought it was lost. She saved my mind… she saved my soul. Even now, I am still indebted to her. I owe her everything.”

“In the end, you gave her everything,” Teresa says.

Jean shakes her head. “I lost my life once, she brought me back… I … my life will always belong to her, no matter what.”

The honesty and raw emotion in Jean’s voice is unmistakable. She sees Teresa’s look soften even more. It’s clear to Jean they both love Clare, yet Jean knows her love for Clare is a different kind of love.

They continue to walk along the river, the horizon getting bigger but not any clearer.

Jean feels comfortable, at ease now. Yet, more questions remain.

“Teresa, do you greet and help every warrior?”

Teresa nods. “Since I came here, yes.”

“Is… is this your journey?” Jean says. She is curious because Teresa stated everyone’s journey is different.

“In a way, yes; it is what I was allowed to do since I refused to go any further,” Teresa says.

They reach the mouth of the river, and Jean sees a vast ocean. The horizon remains bright, yet there is still no sun. A few feet from the river’s mouth, there is a rock formation, a small plateau with something shimmering… like a door with a window. A small rock path from where they stand leads to the formation.

Teresa lets out a small laugh. “I guess I should not be surprised, you have the easiest journey to the next world based on the weight of your deeds.”

“Some people have it harder?” Jean says, wondering how the journey would be different for others.

Teresa points to the left of the rock formation where a raft sits in the surrounding waters, “Every warrior I've met here, until now, has had to board the raft and guide it in the vast emptiness to find the gate. Since I have been here, I help them with their journey should they accept my offer. Some journeys are long and treacherous; others are tranquil yet long. Others are stormy and short. I’ve experienced many different journeys in helping our warriors. Yours, however… is very different. The only other time I’ve encountered such an opportunity was my own.”

“And you did not take it?” Jean says. The confusion is clear in her voice. One thing is now clear to her: Teresa is a rebel even in death.

“No...I will not go through any gate until… until Clare is here,” she says, the conviction in her voice is unmistakable. Jean wonders just who Teresa had to beat in order to get such a privilege. She wonders what she would have to do to get the same privilege.

The pain comes to Teresa before she knows what is going on, and she doubles over. She drops to her knees and grits her teeth. Jean drops to her right knee and reaches over, putting her right hand on Teresa’s back and her left to Teresa’s abdomen.

“Teresa, what’s wrong?” Jean says, deeply concerned. The sky begins to darken as the once calm ocean begins to make small waves. The wind picks up as the shimmering gate goes from clear to opaque. The bright light in the horizon no longer is there as it all seems to be concentrating within the gate.

Teresa starts to take a few shallows breaths, trying to adapt but unable to answer.

“Is it Clare?” Jean says. She does not understand why she asks that question. She’s only been with Teresa for a short time, but it’s clear she shares some special connection with Clare.

 _In a universe that has an afterlife… maybe some connections go beyond death_ , Jean thinks.

Teresa winces in pain. She starts to explain, her voice trembling, “An overwhelming and painful sense of guilt… of self-hatred. Clare… Clare is not half-Yoma like us. She is a quarter. The Organization used the remains of my physical body for her transformation process. Ever since I woke here, in this place, we’ve been linked in some way. And for as long as I’ve been here, however long that is in the world, there has been one primary emotion I’ve felt from Clare: rage.

“I felt sadness once, right before I met a warrior named Elena. She was Clare’s friend when they both went through the process,” Teresa says, starting to cry openly and freely.

“This…” Teresa starts to say, needing to take a deep breath to deal with the pain, “this is powerful and overwhelming. This is agony.”

Jean looks at Teresa. The look of heartbreak on Teresa’s face is too much for Jean as tears form in her eyes. The look she wanted to avoid seeing on Clare’s face as she synched her aura with Clare’s. She wanted to save Clare. She did save Clare. She did not… does not want Clare to feel guilty over her death. Clare gave her the opportunity to die on her own terms.

“I saved you, Clare… Damn it, you are supposed to live! Live damn it, don’t let guilt consume you!” Jean says. She feels helpless as the world around them changes. The green trees are now dead and empty of leaves, the ocean is black, and the sky is dark. There are no stars. The only remaining light is the shimmering gate.

She knows she is saying these words for nothing. Clare cannot hear her, cannot feel her, cannot see her, cannot touch her. Jean cannot tell her all those things she wants to say.

Teresa looks up at the pitch-black sky, her face pleading for an end to Clare’s misery.

“I will wait for Clare,” she says aloud.

“I will wait for Clare, but this is not right. It is not right!” Teresa yells at the sky. She takes a few breaths before continuing calmly, “She should not be torturing herself like this.”

To Jean, Teresa sounds argumentative… rebellious.

“Teresa, who… who are you talking to?”

The grimace on Teresa’s face makes it clear to Jean that another powerful wave of guilt and self-hatred is overwhelming Teresa.

Jean wonders if this is what Clare felt when she died. _It must have taken some time for her to get accustomed to just the rage_.

Teresa’s face softens as she appears to adapt to the pain. “Some might call her the Goddess of Rabona; the Goddess, Deity, Universe, God, Mother Earth, what have you.”

“Will she help you?”

“In this place, doubtful,” Teresa says. “Tell me, why did you give your life to Clare?”

Jean has answered that very question several times now. She wonders Teresa is really asking.

“Clare saved my life. She pulled me back and cared about my life in a way no one has… not since my family was murdered,” Jean says. She hears the waves beginning to calm again, yet the only light she senses is the light from the gate.

Teresa looks at Jean, the pain and sorrow clear on her face. Jean wonders if it is all Clare or if Teresa’s own pain and sorrow is now mixed in. Jean never wanted Clare to feel guilt and pain over her. Clare would mourn, yes, but she would get over it. At least Jean hoped. It is now clear that Clare is not getting over it.

The regret builds in Jean’s heart. _What could I have done to prevent this? Let Clare die? No! There was no other way! She passed her limit and I had a mortal would… I was dead; it was a matter of minutes… This was the best way. Clare, why can’t you see that?_ Jean thinks.

“And you care about her life the same, do you not?” Teresa says.

“Of course I do, how could I not-” she says before stopping. “How can I not feel the same about hers?”

“Why do you feel this way?” Teresa presses further.

“Because… Because… isn’t it clear?” Jean says.

Teresa starts to take deeper and longer breathes. The pain Teresa is experiencing, coupled with the questions she is asking, causes confusion in Jean’s heart and mind. The indoctrination of the Organization remains part of her mind.

“Please… why do you care so much?” She asks.

“Because…” Jean starts to say.

However, another voice comes through her head. It is the voices of Organization, the handlers that indoctrinated her and other warriors. “Duty and honor, those are the codes of your life. Nothing else matters. No one else matters. You are a Warrior of the Organization, nothing more.”

The words echo in her mind and the waves begin to whip up violently again.

“Because… Because… I love Clare,” Jean says in a low and sad voice. “I love Clare,” she repeats in a whisper, admitting to herself that her love for Clare is different than Teresa’s love for Clare.

The ocean’s waters begin to calm again, and the wind begins to die down.

“What if… what if there is an opportunity for you to talk to Clare one more time, while she lives?” Teresa says.

“What do I need to do? I will fight through heaven, hell… anything for this chance,” Jean says.

Teresa tries to stand, but is too difficult. Jean helps her stand up, yet Teresa keeps one arm slung around Jean’s shoulder. Jean cannot understand how guilt can cause such pain. _Leave it to Clare to accomplish such a feat_ , she thinks.

The light at the gate begins to change color in rapid succession. Teresa looks at the gate. Her face and body language suggest she knows what is going, but Jean is unsure what to expect.

Something crosses the threshold of the gate. In a few moments, there is a being standing before them. It is shrouded in a white cloak, with no hands and feet visible. Where Jean expects a face, all she sees is a black void.

Everything is calm. The sky is still dark, the trees are still dead, the ocean is perfectly still. Jean wants to grab her sword and confront this being. She knows it is useless. She looks at Teresa, who looks both defiant and calm. The pain is still evident though; Jean can feel Teresa flinch as she stands. She still needs Jean’s support to remain standing.

In a calm voice, Jean starts to talk. “Who are you?”

“I have many names: God, Goddess, Universe, Mother Nature, Mother Earth,” it says. The voice is not clearly feminine or masculine. “You could say that I am everything. Yes, I am you and you are expressions of my being. However, let us say I am the Goddess of Rabona... for simplicity’s sake.”

“That all-powerful, all-knowing being that created this world…” Teresa says, and the sardonic tone in her voice makes it clear to Jean that she is not impressed with the deity.

Jean cannot explain it, but she knows the being has shifted its look toward Teresa.

“All powerful? Perhaps. All-knowing? Definitely not. I merely created the world and gave life to it. Each individual is a world to herself. I do not interfere. I merely seek to understand, something no creator ever truly does,” it says.

“You are an absent Goddess, a coward,” Teresa responds.

“I am fully aware of how you feel. Yet, you’ve called me here,” it fires back.

A part of Jean would find Teresa arguing with the Goddess humorous if situation was not so ominous. She is concerned by the exchange. Given her own experiences in life, she agrees with the accusations. But she also deduces that this is her only opportunity to see Clare one more time… to convince her to keep on living.

“Bring me back to life; let me help Clare… even if it is just for a day.” Jean says.

“Death in that realm is permanent. Your previous life cannot be brought back. You must start again,” it says.

Jean’s anger grows. She now understands why Teresa seems to hold this Goddess in disdain. It is frustrating, being unable to gain any understanding through body language or facial expression. All she sees is a being in a white cloak and a hood over the black void where a face should be.

“Teresa called you here…” Jean starts to say, but she pauses to control her growing anger. “What do I have to do to help Clare?”

The Goddess steps aside as the shimmering gate, once nearly white, turns black. Jean can make out tiny specks within the gate though, as if they are stars.

“The way to connecting the dead to the living is not easily made, or even granted. There must be a spiritual bond between the two. The warriors’ guide whom you are helping stand has such a connection with the one you seek to help. Many who come here seek such a connection, yet very few have them,” it says. Jean wonders about the connection between Clare and her.

“In your case, however, it seems a connection already exists,” the Goddess says.

Jean stares at the Goddess, wondering how the connection already exists. Teresa looks down and smiles through the pain; for Jean and Teresa, the knowledge Clare can be helped gives them a small relief.

“This portal is used when a person sheds the weight and ignorance of her former life, allowing her to cross into the next. It can be changed when I deem it necessary. Should you choose to enter, you will travel and connect to her soul. You will see visions of what she has seen and feel what she feels, in both a conscious and subconscious state. Yet, you can only speak to her when her subconscious state is dominant. Choose that moment wisely,” the Goddess says.

The decision is easy. Without saying a word, Jean feels Teresa let go of her. She drops to her knees, the pain still strong enough to keep her from standing. Jean looks at Teresa, and guilt that she has to leave Teresa in such a state bothers her.

“Do not worry about me. I’ve been through much worse. If you’re going to help Clare, go!” Teresa implores.

Jean nods, giving Teresa a reassuring touch on her shoulder. She begins her march to the gate, her sense of determination so strong that Teresa and the Goddess can feel it.

The Goddess stays perfectly still as Jean approaches the gate. Finally, the Goddess speaks, “Be careful as you make your journey… you may not like what you are going to see.”

The warning gives Jean momentary pause, but not out of hesitation. Rather, she tries to mentally strengthen her resolve to be as hard as her sword. She walks through the gate, unsure of what to expect.

She faintly hears Teresa voice before she fully crosses over.

“Please… please be successful,” Teresa prays.

~*~

Jean cannot comprehend what she sees, or what she feels. She hears screaming, an agonizing cry of pain. She is in a halo of darkness, black as the night sky, with specks of light all around. She is not moving of her own free will. A force is moving her forward through the darkness. She does not know the destination, and she has no idea how she will connect to Clare’s subconscious.

The screaming and cries of pain stop as light flashes all around her and her mind begins to flicker with visions; she sees Clare on her knees, cradling someone.

 _It’s me_ , Jean thinks.

“Jean… it can’t be… please… open your eyes… Jean… This just can’t be. Why did you have to die? I was the weakest of all the warriors! So how come you died instead of me?”[5] Jean hears Clare say. Then she hears Clare scream in agony, crying and cradling her dead body.

Jean reaches out, wanting to touch Clare, to let her know it is okay. To let her know that she is happy she could save her. She knows she can’t, these are visions of things that have already come to pass. As she pulls back, she is overwhelmed with pain; she felt a similar pain once before, when she was tortured by Riful and Dauf. She grits her teeth, clenching her jaw.

Jean wonders if this is the overwhelming and painful guilt Teresa is experiencing. For the first time since she has crossed over, Jean finally sheds a tear and thinks, _No one should feel this guilt, especially not you Clare. You saved me… you saved me… My life is always yours_.

The vision ends and a new one begins. The guilt is no longer there, just a cold and dead feeling. She sees Clare again, holding her lifeless body. She sees Yuma reach out and touch Clare.

Clare stands up, still cradling her body. Jean sees Miria, Yuma, Tabitha, and Deneve pick up the remaining warriors and they begin to walk to the mountains.

She counts the warriors. Six others besides Clare live. Captain Miria, Helen, Deneve, Tabitha, Cynthia, and Yuma. She is glad some of the warriors live, but wonders how Teresa handled the sudden influx of warriors. The thought gives her some pause.

She watches Clare lay her body down gently next to the others and pauses, showing much hesitation in having to let go. She sees Clare struggle but finally let go. She stands and faces Captain Miria. The burials proceed.

By her count, Clare is starting her third grave, but she pushes Yuma away as she tries to help. Jean frowns at the vision, it is clear that this is her grave. The guilt and self-hatred Clare is going through come again.

“What kind of cruel world has the Goddess created?” Jean says, now more fully understanding Teresa’s disdain toward the Goddess.

The sadness within Clare’s heart is the byproduct of a cold and cruel universe. _I must help Clare_ , she thinks. Clare finishes digging the grave and stands back up.

“One at a time,” Jean hears Captain Miria say.

Jean watches Cynthia walk over and pick up Flora and carry her to the plot where Captain Miria stands. They honor Flora. Jean is touched that they have taken the time and willingly taken the toll on their emotions to honor all of them. She watches and honors each warrior as they are buried, bowing her head.

“I’m sorry that I could not be stronger,” Jean says to each buried warrior.

The pain of the guilt and self-hatred returns as she sees Clare pick her body. Every step Clare takes, the pain in Jean’s heart grows. She is no longer sure if it is only Clare’s emotions she is feeling.

The sadness becomes more intense as Jean watches Clare drop to her knees, cradling her body a little longer. A wave of guilt washes over her entire being. The guilt is unrelenting. Jean tries to fight back the tears. She can feel it, feel the intense hatred Clare has for herself. The war of emotions within Clare angers Jean. Clare only has guilt and hatred, nothing else.

Clare continues to cradle Jean’s lifeless body. Jean suddenly feels something different... a brief flicker of another emotion. The realization hits her through Clare’s sadness, anger, and self-hatred. Clare feels the same way about her, the same feeling she feels for Clare. The same feeling she admitted to Teresa.

Jean gains more insight into Clare’s frayed and dark emotional state; yet she feels her own sadness, her own desire in wanting to take away this burden of pain from Clare.

She watches Clare lay her body down in the grave. As Clare lets go, she feels something new. She feels hostility: towards everyone, towards the world, and towards herself. All these emotions become unbearable as her eyes well up with tears.

She watches Clare bury her, no one else making a move. Again, she reaches out, desperately wanting to touch Clare… to offer her some comfort.

“Don’t let your grief overwhelm you,” she whispers. “You have to live, Clare… We put our faith in you to live, damn it.”

The vision fades and for a few moments, Jean is calm. There is no screaming, no crying, and no emotions to feel. There is tranquility in this strange halo of darkness. What’s in front of her reminds her of the clear night sky that one sees up in the mountains, with all the stars. She wonders why she is amongst the stars, why she sees the vision, why Clare feels the way she does, why the universe is cruel and uncaring.

“I have created, nothing more,” booms the voice the Goddess.

She begins to feel claustrophobic. She cannot explain it, but the halo of darkness seems to be closing in on her as the darkness fades. She feels a chill. The air is recognizable. She’s inside an unlit building, a wide room big enough to hold a giant. To hold Dauf in his awakened form. She’s in castle that stands in Mount Zakol.

She is floating. A strange sensation washes over her as she hears someone’s footsteps. Again, her floating body is forced into motion as she moves behind Clare. She is not taking any active steps. She hears footsteps again, coming from the left. Clare turns her head and stops.

Her eyes widen with shock. She sees something that looks like herself approaching. But something is very wrong. _Is this a memory? No, we didn’t meet like this. Why am I seeing an image of myself approaching Clare?_ she wonders.

 _This isn’t me_ , she thinks. _The look on her face is wrong. She’s sneering. Her eyes are narrow. Who is this? This never happened! Unless…_ her thoughts trail off as she remembers. She is seeing Clare’s subconscious state… _This is a dream, this Clare’s reconstruction of what she thinks of me? No… but what is this?_ The conflict between what is clearly supposed to be her leads to growing rage.

Jean focuses on what she sees, what she hears. The exchange makes her wrathful.

“You are pathetic. Weak. A failure,” she hears the being say.

A smaller voice enters her mind, saying “One’s subconscious is the gateway to the soul, a gateway to the thoughts we have, our dreams give images to those thoughts.”

Jean feels a small bit of gratitude toward the Goddess for helping her understand.

 _Images to those thoughts… if Clare feels angry and guilty, she… No… this is her guilt and anger projected on me!_ she realizes. However, the realization clouds her emotions further, but she does not care about whose emotions she feels.

“This is not right!” Jean shouts. No one hears her. No one responds to the accusation.

She sees the being raise her sword and swing at Clare, and all she hears from Clare are words that shake her to the core. “Please let this be my penance.”

Jean cannot take this anymore. She screams, “Clare!”

It is for nothing as everything goes black, the specks of starlight reappear; she is within the halo of darkness.

“Why?” she cries out.

There is no answer, just thoughts rushing through mind. _Clare… Clare… why… this was never your fault, it was never ever your fault. Why can’t you see? I lost my life once to some meaningless mission. I led three fellow warriors to their deaths… I could not save my team in Pietà. I could save you… the one who saved me… Why can’t you see, Clare? You saved my life. You gave me a second chance. You gave me the opportunity to create my own meaning… Why do you feel guilty? This is not your fault. This was my duty, it was my honor. It was never ever your failure_. She finally drops to her knees, looking down at the black void.

Her time for ruminations is cut as the halo of darkness disappears. She feels grass against her knees, the sky is blue, and a river is nearby.

 _Am I back at the threshold?_ she wonders. _No. This is different. Where am I?_

She sees a cabin, a tree stump, and some wood logs. It’s clear she’s never been in this area before.

 _But if this is a dream, Clare has…_ she thinks. She tries to move but cannot go very far; it’s almost as if she’s still boxed-in.

She realizes the Goddess does not want her moving too much, that she has to see precisely what is in front of her. She looks at the cabin, the stack of logs, and the tree stump. _When did this happen, Clare? Where are we?_

Clare materializes next to the tree stump. Jean can tell Clare is confused by her body language. She hears Clare speak to herself, fully aware that she is in another dream… trying to force herself awake. She watches Clare slam her fist into the tree stump to no avail.

They both snap their heads to the left. The reconstructed Jean appears before them, walking towards Clare. Jean reaches for her sword, but there is nothing strapped to her back, nor can she move very far.

She watches what is supposed to be her, and clenches her jaw. The being’s golden eyes make Jean grow angry. She hears Clare warn the revenant about crossing her limit.

Everything about the reconstruction is wrong. Jean’s anger begins to overflow. She wants to rip this thing limb from limb. She wants to slice its flesh, make it bleed, leave it a bloody mess that is so shredded and broken it could never be reconstructed again.

The fact she cannot enrages her more. She throws and errant punch and hits an invisible force. There is no pain, just more frustration.

“Teresa…” she whispers, grimacing in both horror and sadness. The self-torture Clare is making herself go through must be agony for Teresa, and Jean finally understands how guilt and self-hatred can cause pain.

She watches the revenant use the hilt of her sword to reinforce its strength, swinging her arm and landing a vicious punch to Clare’s temple.

Jean is paralyzed with horror. She cannot process what she sees.

There is self-punishment and self-hatred, but what she sees before her goes far beyond any of those things.

“She’s… she’s created an Awakened Being in her mind…” she whispers. She cannot explain it, but she feels like the Goddess is behind her, nodding as if she has cracked the code.

The beating continues as the horror is replaced by feelings of helplessness. Jean watches Clare do nothing to defend herself. The claustrophobic feeling returns as she tries to break free. It is of no use. Jean cannot do anything in this state. The goddess only allows her to observe for now.

The revenant finally grabs Clare by her throat and takes flight. The invisible force pushes Jean up as well until she level with them. The revenant holds Clare up by her throat. She now clearly sees the contorted and horrifying face of what is supposed to be her face in her awakened form… what Clare saved her from.

She hears the revenant spew words about pride, knowing that these are Clare’s own thoughts; that Clare hates herself now, possibly more than ever. The next moment, she sees the being throw Clare back to the ground.

Instinctively, Jean tries to reach out and grab Clare’s arm, but she cannot. She just watches in horror as Clare falls back down.

“I’m sorry, Jean. Please forgive me and take my life,” she hears Clare say.

Jean sees the ground becoming clearer as is pushed back down. She hears the sickening thud as Clare lands on her back. She desperately tries to break the restraints, trying to get to Clare. The blood on Clare’s face, the look in her eyes, is too much for Jean. It is as if Clare has given up trying, given up living.

“Please let this be my penance,” she hears Clare say.

Jean looks up, and it is unmistakable. The revenant is approaching at incredible speed, its arm is spinning. It’s using her Drillsword. She tries again to break free from the confines, but it is hopeless.

She sees the Drillsword come within inches of Clare’s head. She looks away in disbelief. She bows her head in her own grief, screaming, “This cannot be happening!”

The world goes black, and whether or not Clare’s subconscious went through with the penance does not matter to her. Jean does not want to know.

The tears she has been fighting now flow, and it does matter if the anger and grief are Clare’s or hers. She drops to her hands and knees, looking at the black void beneath her.

“Goddess… if I must connect to her in her subconscious state… the next dream… nightmare she begins to have… let me connect with her then,” Jean struggles to say.

Her thoughts return to Teresa and the agony she must be going through.

“I’m sorry, Teresa,” she whispers.

 _So many things left unsaid…_ she thinks. _What could I have done? I couldn’t do anything more! Why was I so weak! I should have said something more. I should have told her why I was doing this. I should have told her that…. that I did this because I love her…_

The look on her face begins to change. Sadness gives way to determination, and her eyes widen with realization. The anger at the cruel and heartless universe slowly fades. She realizes she has been given an opportunity, something many warriors… and even the humans they were supposed to protect… never get; an opportunity… a gift to say those things… all those things left unspoken.

She stands up. Her eyes are wide with determination and hope.

“Goddess, forgive me for not realizing just what kind of gift you granted me,” she says. “You do answer our prayers… even when we cannot find the words.”

In this halo of darkness, among the screams and apparitions, of all the misery she has seen and felt from Clare… Jean is grateful now; grateful to have the opportunity to say those words left unspoken, and to save Clare one more time.

Her surroundings transform, and the darkness is gone. She feels her sword strapped to her back. She stands on a rocky cliff. This time, she knows exactly where she is. She sees a ghost town on the horizon. It is mostly how she remembers it, except for a building with a high steeple in the middle. It is the ghost town used by the Organization as a testing zone; the test where a trainee earns her warrior’s emblem or dies.

 _Why Clare put a church in the middle of the ghost town… it must hold some kind of significance for her_ , she thinks.

She leaps from the cliff, traveling downward safely, and surprised that she does not need to exert any effort to control her aura.

 _Perhaps it’s the same force that has been guiding me,_ she thinks.

She lands softly on the ground, but she is not alone.

“What do you think you’re doing?” her doppelganger says. Up close, she can make out the subtle differences in her face. There is a burning hatred in her eyes, a sneering look on her face. The tone in her voice is haughty. Her voice sounds distorted when she speaks.

Jean does not respond. She draws her sword, pointing it at the doppelganger.

“You cannot defeat--” it starts to say.

Jean does not let it finish. All the revenant saw was Jean pointing her sword at it. Now Jean is next to it, with her sword through the revenant’s gut.

It spits blood, looking confused. Jean uses the handle of her sword, the blade still in the being, and lifts it up. She throws it. The being’s face contorts with pain as it feels the blade move again, blood covering it. The doppelganger’s back hits hard against the rocks of the mountain and with enough force to leave cracks as it lands with a sickening thud.

Jean does not give it time to gather itself, jumping to take flight and using her aura to accelerate towards it. She points her sword at its head. She does not need to use the Drillsword. She will end this revenant of Clare’s mind. She increases her aura to charge at the being with all her strength.

“If you think this will be enough to save he-” it starts to say. Jean’s sword pierces its head. She drives her her sword until its heads hits the crossguard. Jean puts more force into it, using the crossguard to smash its head, crushing it and pushing it back until it is decapitated.

There is a great deal blood. Both bodies hit the side of the mountain, but Jean feels no pain. The decapitated body crumbles to the ground. Only part of the neck remains attached to the being’s body. The blood on Jean’s uniform and sword evaporates.

She sheathes her sword. She turns back around to the ghost town. The passage of time is confusing for her. However, she hears something crumbling. The church’s steeple begins to collapse.

She channels more of her yoki aura as she takes flight, trying to get to the ghost town faster.

 _What has she done? Created something worse? How can she create something worse than--_ her thoughts are interrupted by what she sees emerging in the distance. It is not humanoid, that much is clear even at a distance. As she gets closer and closer, she has no idea what Clare has created.

 _This is… this is like an Abyssal One_ , she thinks.

She lands on her feet at the edge of the ghost town. She senses for Clare’s aura. She feels it is close and increasing.

 _How can I stop this before it even starts?_ she wonders.

As she thinks of a plan, she hears the familiar voice of the Goddess. “Do not worry about what she’s created. The fight is not around her, but within her.”

She walks through the abandoned streets, in between buildings, alleys, and corridors. The center of the town, where the cathedral once stood, is covered in rubble and wreckage. She sees Clare, sword drawn, trying to increase her aura.

The horrifying being Clare’s mind has constructed momentarily stuns her.

 _It truly is an Abyssal One,_ she thinks. _If the fight is within her, can I do what Galatea did? Can I show her the world she will create? This is the world I want for her. It is dark enough, Clare. Your world is dark enough. Don’t destroy it all…_

Jean focuses on her own yoki, project her aura to the Abyssal One, hoping it will ignore Clare.

She grits her teeth, wincing in pain. The being is fighting back. She is fighting Clare’s own aura.

She thinks back to the moment she pulled Clare back. _That’s what I have to do here_.

She concentrates, putting everything in being into manipulating Clare’s aura.

 _This is her creation, this is her aura… I’ve done this before_ , she thinks.

She takes three deep breaths and focuses.

 _Stop fighting against yourself!_ she thinks. _Let me show you the world you’re creating for yourself, Clare_.

She sees the being pause, and then look around. Jean grins with hope. She looks towards Clare, who looks battle ready as ever. The Abyssal One begins smashing the nearby buildings. A part of Jean’s mind is relieved, yet she knows she has to convince Clare that it was not her fault. For Jean, it was her honor.

 _All those things left unspoken..._ she thinks. She has the opportunity to say the words she could not before. The opportunity brings a genuine smile to Jean’s face, a smile mixed with sadness. Clare tortured her own soul, her own being, for Jean. She walks towards Clare; hoping her words will be enough, hoping Clare will choose to live, hoping Clare can forgive herself, hoping that she can express her love to her.

~*~

The pained look on Teresa’s face softens as she looks at the gate. For the first time since Jean left, she has a glimmer of hope that Clare’s soul can be saved. She looks toward the gate, hopeful.

 _Hope is not something I should believe in,_ Teresa thinks. _Yet, there is nothing left. It’s all I have._

“I know you can hear me,” she says, the defiant tone in her voice is as clear as ever.

The Goddess turns its attention back to Teresa. “I hear everything. Hope is not useless.”

“Why did you let her go? Why did you grant her prayer and not mine?" she says, her voice restrained but full of anger.

For the first time since she had to go to her knees, she manages to stand up. She is grateful that Jean is succeeding, and angry that Jean got this opportunity. She approaches the Goddess, facing the black void within its hood.

She learned a long time ago that fighting the deity was futile, but she is who she is. She fought for the right to wait for Clare, no matter how long it took. Her cleverness won her that right, not her fighting ability.

Now she stands before the Goddess again, demanding answers. In the mortal realm, all beings demand answers. Few are ever given. Teresa knows this, but she learned the first time that the rules of the mortal realm have no place in the threshold. The Goddess could not force her to do anything. It would not even destroy her soul. The worst the Goddess would do is walk away. But she has eternity, or close to it. Teresa taught the creator of life just what the creator wrought once before: She knows she can do it again.

“Because your link to her is unique and your kind has special powers and abilities I never anticipated. I do not need to grant your request because there is certainty you two will see each other again, before your beloved daughter arrives in this place,” the Goddess says.

Teresa’s eyes narrow as she glares at the Goddess.

She turns away as Clare’s emotions flow into her being again. This time is it is different. It is new. There is rage, but it is not as intense as it once was. There is guilt, but all warriors carry some guilt. This is not like it was before. There is also something else, an emotion she only felt flickers of before Jean arrived. It was buried underneath all the rage, self-hatred, and guilt. It is stronger now, clear and unmistakable.

Jean connected to Clare’s soul. Teresa cannot help but smile and look up at the sky. A sky that was once black as the night is turning back to the light blue she knows it to be. The ocean returns to its greenish-blue with the waves gently ebbing and flowing. The grass turns green and the leaves grow on the once dead trees.

Teresa is calmer, happier that Jean seems to have found peace with Clare and finally expressed the words she could not before, and that Clare feels the same. Yes, Clare loves her, but Clare’s love for Jean is different.

Her smile grows as the River of the Dead comes back to life. Jean is letting go of her own guilt. The light at the horizon returns as Teresa feels a warm, intense emotion. Clare feels something more than rage and anger again, and Teresa is grateful and happy Clare allows herself to love someone again… even if they cannot be together yet.

Yet, there is some sadness; a longing because someone is missing. She looks toward the gate, and it changes colors again. A bright and shimmering light emanates from it. There is sadness, yet determination. There is hate and there is love. Something changed within Clare. She is not burying all her emotions under the hate; for that, Teresa feels indebted to Jean.

She can make out a silhouette within the gate. Jean walks through and Teresa looks at her, smiling. She approaches Jean and hugs her.

“She’s going to be okay,” Jean says.

“I know,” Teresa responds. “Thank you.”

Teresa hugs Jean; reluctant to let go. While she has helped many warriors make their own journey, Jean is the first warrior she feels connected to and Jean is now part of the family she created with Clare.

~*~

As the light becomes brighter at the horizon, there is peace within Jean. A peace she found at the end when she saved Clare. A peace she has again for saving Clare’s soul. There is some turmoil remaining, but no regrets; simply a longing as the waves pick up.

She can feel Teresa hesitate before finally letting go of the hug. The waves pick up as longing remains with Jean.

“Regrets?” Teresa says.

Jean shakes her head. “None. I just wish…” she pauses and looks back at the gate. “I just wish Clare and I had more time together.”

“Maybe you two will next time,” Teresa says with a smile.

Jean turns her head and gives Teresa a questioning look.

“I’ve always wondered what waits on the other side. From what little I’ve picked up and what the Goddess said,” she starts, glancing at the Goddess, “we will have another chance at life. When and where? I have no idea. ”

Jean looks at the Goddess. “Is it true?”

“Once your previous life ends, you go through the gate and start new,” the Goddess says.

“Do our friends and loved ones find each other again?” Jean presses.

“Sometimes, depending on the strength of the connection and the will to see each other again next time,” the Goddess says.

Jean looks back at the gate, wondering what next time could bring. _Would we be warriors? How far into the future would it be? What kind of world would it be? How different could it be? How different would we be?_

The Goddess intrudes on her thoughts. “Regardless, your journey in this life has always been at an end given the weight of your deeds.”

Teresa looks to the ground and Jean sees her with a sad smile.

“It’s true. You can move to the next world without the journey,” Teresa says.

Jean remains silent as she looks at the gate. She looks back toward the Goddess, her face hardened with determination. Turning around and facing the gate, now shimmering with a silver light, Jean takes off her pauldrons and throws them into the gate. She takes off her belt and wrist guards, tossing them through as well.

She unsheathes her swords and looks at it, staring at her emblem. The sword, the symbol of everything she once was, no longer holds the same meaning to her. She throws it through the gate.

Jean turns around, standing tall and determined, she looks at the Goddess and declares, “I will wait for Clare.”

Teresa looks at Jean in surprise.

Though neither of them can explain it, as the Goddess has no discernible face, they can both sense frustration from it.

“You cannot force me through the gate. You said it yourself: You seek to understand what you create. You are not a destroyer. Seek to understand what we warriors have gone through. If you are all of us and we all are expressions of you, then when we find a connection… I would rather be damned a million times than lose her again,” Jean pauses to see if the Goddess responds. It does not, nor does Teresa interject. Jean continues while looking at Teresa, “and no one in this world should be alone for long.”

The Goddess remains silent while Teresa smiles at Jean in gratitude. Jean is happy that Teresa understands what she means. Clare’s connection to both of them changed their lives.

The Goddess starts, “Some would say there are seven virtues. Kindness is one of them, and one of the many meanings of your name. Perhaps I am an absent deity. But as I have said, I seek to learn what I have created. There are many lessons in the vast universe. And you understand this fact. We seek connections, what you all call a family. If you wish to wait for your beloved, so be it. However it long it takes. But you will help this one with her duty, helping those that come here find their own gate.”

Jean nods, cracking a small smile in victory. Teresa walks up to stand next to her. The gate disappears before their eyes. All that’s left is the rocky plateau on which they stand.

“We will meet again,” the Goddess says before transforming into a ball of light and shooting up towards the sky.

Jean looks up at the sky, confused.

She hears Teresa chuckle and say, “The Goddess does like a grand exit.”

Teresa reaches out and takes Jean’s arm, guiding her back to land. As they walk back, Jean wonders where Teresa is taking her. They walk along the river in silence, content with each other.

“I think this is the first time since I’ve arrived that I feel… happy. It’s thanks to you,” Teresa says.

Jean smiles herself, this time overwhelmed with joy that she has helped Clare and Teresa.

“Do you ever feel the passage of time? Jean says with curiosity.

Teresa shakes her head. “No. It's a very strange feeling.”

Teresa slows down. Jean sees the area Teresa has lead her to, a place where boulders have been shaped into chairs.

“Why so many chairs?” Jean says.

“Sometimes, I just want to sit in a different place. And, perhaps, someone would want to stay awhile and talk,” Teresa says.

Jean grins. She watches Teresa take a chair-shaped boulder and pick it up, moving it next to another one. She sits down. Jean takes the seat next to Teresa.

“Teresa?” Jean says.

“Yes?”

“What was Clare like as a child?”

“I only knew her a short time. But she was determined. She was strong, even when everyone else thought she was weak. How is she as a warrior?” Teresa says.

Jean smiles and says, “Determined. Strong even though everyone thinks of her as weak because of her rank. She is smart, able to adapt. Sometimes a bit reckless.”

Teresa nods. “I wanted to live a happy life… as a human…” she says, trailing off.

“As you’ve said, perhaps next time will be different,” Jean responds.

Teresa nods softly and says, “I hope so.”

For now, they will wait for Clare. Someday, they will approach the gate together. Someday, the family they created will be together. Someday, all of this will not matter and they will have each other… and everyone else who found a connection as warriors.

Jean thinks of the last words she said to Clare before she had to return, _I love you Clare… and I always will._

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Dialogue from the official Viz Media translation.  
> 2\. Dialogue heavily derived from the official Viz Media Translation.  
> 3\. Dialogue from the official Viz Media translation.  
> 4\. Phrase comes from the scanlation team’s translation for Claymore.  
> 5\. Dialogue from the official Viz Media translation.
> 
> I'd like to thank all of you that made it to the end. I hope you at least enjoyed this story. This piece did not start as a companion piece to my first fic but it just ended up that way.
> 
> I'd like to give special thanks to the following people. 
> 
> [SilverDagger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverDagger) on AO3 for providing extensive comments and editing on the first draft of this fic. The suggestions and editing improved this fic tremendously. My sincerest thanks and gratitude for all your time and effort. It is a lot better and I feel like I've improved a great deal. 
> 
> [fuckyeahclaymore](http://fuckyeahclaymore.tumblr.com) on Tumblr for being very supportive of my presence in the fandom on Tumblr and for becoming a good friend. 
> 
> [spacemosh](http://spacemosh.tumblr.com) on Tumblr. Your excitement for my fics keeps me going when I get down on them, and you know I do. Again, just knowing someone is excited to even read the drafts helps in so many ways, you have no idea. 
> 
> [goatalicious](http://goatalicious.tumblr.com) on Tumblr for being my headcanon partner-in-sad. Some of those headcanons make it in this fic. Our sad-offs have inspired both of us to write more. 
> 
> [celestialparadigm](http://celestialparadigm.tumblr.com) (tumblr)/[shotgunsinlace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shotgunsinlace), aka Senpai. You always get a thanks cause you inspire me! You’re the standard for which I aim. 
> 
> [jean-number9](http://jean-number9.tumblr.com) on Tumblr… Where do I begin here? I cannot thank you enough for being my editor. Your feedback, suggestions, criticism, and talking ideas out with me is truly invaluable. I would not be a quarter as good or improved as much as I have without you as my editor. Furthermore, if it wasn’t for you, I would have left this fic abandoned completely. Mere words cannot convey my gratitude. 
> 
> Shameless plug: If you'd like to make suggestions or have questions, you can follow me on [Tumblr](http://valenshawke.tumblr.com).


End file.
